State of Decay: The Survival Handbook
by Envirosuit
Summary: This is the story of three different survivors, as they try to survive in the world after the infection. Follow Ryan Dunn, a hooded figure, Christopher Dilsworth and even the story of Marcus Campbell as survival turns either the dead, or the living into monsters. Rated M for gore, strong violence and language.
1. Into the nothing

I do not own State of Decay, I have written this purely for fun. I also do not own anything mentioned here but my OC'S.

**Chapter 1: Into the nothing**

23/12/2012

"OPEN FIRE!"

The reply came in the form of torrents of bullets soaring, and sinking into rotten flesh. Masses and masses of the wall of flesh collapsed, but it was still marching strong.

"They just keep coming!"

"INCOMING, LEFT FLANK!"

"THEY'RE COMING UP THE RIGHT TOO!"

Twelve soldiers formed a box like formation to cover all three directions, the squad of twelve splitting into groups of four to battle the torrential horde. The leader of the group, Major Peter Brownless noticed a ladder behind them and yelled to the rest of the group.

"WE HAVE A LADDER HERE! WE'LL GO UP IN GROUPS OF THREE! WINTERS, WOODROW AND TAN, YOU'RE UP!"

The three veterans of war, PFC K.C Winters, Corporal Evan Woodrow and Sergeant Erik Tan quickly scrambled up the ladder, before firing down onto the horde to attempt to cover their teammates.

Major Peter Brownless hurriedly fired his AKMS into the closest zombie, felling it with a clean headshot, before continuing to spray the crowd. He grit his teeth in determination as he reloaded his AKMS with the skill of a hardened soldier before quickly glancing behind him. He saw that the three were on the platform and shouted before firing again.

"MONTRESSOR, LUTHER AND DUNN, GO!"

Captain Diane Montressor quickly shot backwards and jumped up to the ladder before climbing up to the steel platform, where she turned around and gasped in shock.

The horde had gotten closer, and she could see that they had little chance of survival. She quickly fired upon as many as she could.

She watched as a zed gripped Ray by the helmet and pulled her forward. Ray fell to the floor where a zombie started to gnaw at her neck as it gripped her torso, while another had gripped her by the legs and started to pull. Sergeant Christine Ray screamed in pain as she was torn in two, her blood pouring out of her entrails like a fountain.

As this happened, Master Sergeant Ryan Dunn had managed to clamber on to the platform, catching his breath before firing into the horde.

Next to go was PFC Brian Cox, whose leg was savagely gripped by a strange zed, which then proceeded to drag him into the horde, with him screaming and attempting to grab something to stop him from being dragged away. He disappeared under the crowd of corpses.

As Staff Sergeant Raymond Luther climbed upon the platform, Master Sergeant Lewis Townley ran out of ammo for his M27 IAR, and caved a zed's skull in with it. He then dropped the gun, and ran to the ladder. He jumped up and grabbed the bottom of the ladder, only for the zombified corpse of PFC Cox to pounce on him, throwing him off of the ladder. The soldiers on the platform tried to shoot it off, but could not effectively hit it due to the armour it was wearing. Townley screamed in agony as his throat was torn out by their former comrade's teeth.

First Lieutenant Georgina Adamson and Sergeant Major Stephanie Brians were completely surrounded by the horde, their Model 1100 tactical shotgun and ACR rifle could not protect them for long, as they were completely swamped within seconds, fighting to their bitter last breaths.

Major Peter Brownless was the last to go. After realising that Adamson and Brians were dead, he attempted to fight his way out of the horde. He simply pushed them aside, gritting his teeth as he batted away hands and teeth. As he made it out of the horde though, an extremely large force connected with him, throwing him into the wall of flesh behind him. He quickly pulled out his pistol, and fired at the monstrosities face, his AKMS out of ammo.

The large zed simply roared in his face and picked him up by the waist, making the Major cry out in pain. Its second hand then gripped him by the chest and pulled, the Major being thrown across the street in pieces, his scream silenced before it began.

The six on the platform looked down in awe as the rest of their unit was butchered, before the zeds started to gather at the base of the ladder.

Dunn quickly turned to the window behind them and smashed it open with the butt of his M4A1. He then jumped into the room before beckoning the other five to join him. As they got inside, Dunn looked to see if there was a way to the lower floor, and found a ladder. He quickly pulled it up to the second floor. Satisfied that the zeds couldn't come after them, he looked to the rest of the group.

Luther was rubbing his face with his hands, back leaned against a wall and his MK.15 sniper rifle laid beside him. The guy was not very social, and many of the few friends he had had perished out there.

Montressor was periodically checking out of the window, her face showing utter despair. Her UMP pro was clutched tightly in her hands, blood splatter all over the gun.

Winters was laid against a wall, legs draped in front of him. He held an M27 IAR, the same model of gun that his best friend Townley used. He was giving his gun the thousand yard stare, not focusing on anything as he thought.

Woodrow sat with his legs crossed in the corner of the room, caressing and cleaning his GL M32 grenade launcher. After he had polished his weapon, he counted how much ammo he had before repeating the whole process. Probably the guy's way of coping, considering that he had lost control of a situation and with him being the autocrat he is.

Tan was standing in the middle of the room, rechecking his ammo clips for his M16D. The asshole was much quieter than he usually acted, showing his own way of mourning.

Dunn quickly rubbed his face with his hand and sighed heavily.

* * *

><p>SLICE!<p>

A zombies head slowly rolled off of its former body, before the body itself dropped to the floor in front of the hooded figure. The figure quickly turned his head in all directions, scanning the area for any more of the walking dead. He wore black boots with white trousers, kneepads and a sleeveless shark hoodie that covered his eyes. He also had a black backpack filled with the essentials he needed to survive.

Seeing no more zombies, the figure put his MPX in the holster he custom-made for it, but kept his wakizashi out, flipping it in his grip. The silent figure quickly, and silently, climbed up a set of ladders to a rooftop. He walked to the edge before kneeling, and scanning the area. Seeing no activity but the distant gunfire of the military, he stood up.

Then he heard a heavy footstep.

The hooded man quickly leaned to the left, catching the meat cleaver upon his wakizashi. He then placed his left hand on the floor and spun in a circle, kicking his assailant's feet from beneath him.

He heard a grunt, and looked to his attacker. He wore a full set of SWAT armour, complete with a balaclava and a plexiglass helmet. He also had a rather large backpack deposited on the other side of the rooftop. He wielded a bloodied meat cleaver and a Tac Master 1911 pistol. He looked at the hooded figure with anger and hatred, before getting back to his feet.

Besides him stood a tall man who wore brown military boots, dark green trousers, tan kneepads and a black tactical vest. Beneath the vest he had a green jacket and a tan turtleneck jumper, complete with a balaclava. This man had also deposited his backpack at the other end of the rooftop. He appeared to be carrying a tactical tomahawk and an RPK on his back.

The SWAT officer charged forwards first, swinging first in a hook-like motion, cleaver blade faced towards the hooded man.

The hooded man quickly leaned far back, so much that his torso was completely parallel to the ground.

The SWAT officer then went for a downwards slash, only for the hooded man to perform a two handed handstand, before he extended his legs and kicked the SWAT officer in the face. The SWAT officer emitted a low growl before he attempted a slash as the hooded man straightened himself. The slash nicked the man's left forearm, who lightly hissed before he smashed his elbow onto the other man's arm, and then kicked him away. The cleaver clattered to the floor and the hooded man kicked it behind him, bringing out his long and short wakizashi's.

The man who looked somewhat like a mercenary stepped forth next, swinging his tomahawk in vertical circles, each slash connecting with a wakizashi, as the hooded man backed up as he blocked each hit.

The mercenary then quickly stepped back and kicked the man in the chest, who fell to the ground in his surprise, not losing his grip on his blades. The hooded man quickly jumped back up onto his feet, before he slashed for the mercenary's face, who ducked beneath it, before using his tomahawk to wrench the second blade away from the hooded man before it could connect with him.

The hooded man, realising he wasn't going to win the fight, ran to the mercenary before performing a front flip over the man, who had attempted a horizontal slash. He then quickly picked up his short sword as he continued to run, before kicking one of his opponent's backpacks off of the edge of the roof. He disappeared from their sight before they could catch up to him, the last sight of him being him running from the flare he threw at their fallen backpack.

The mercenary and the SWAT officer grumbled and growled about their defeat, before retrieving their weapons and looking to the fallen backpack. A horde of zombies had managed to congregate around it.

"Oh for fucks sake." The mercenary throatily growled, his voice being deep and gravelly. He quickly and delicately attached a machined suppressor to his RPK.

"We'll catch the fucker next time." The SWAT officer promised as he clenched his right fist and stared at it for a couple of seconds.

* * *

><p>A zombie was felled with one solid swing of a cricket bat to the cranium.<p>

"Lucky shot."

Christopher Dilsworth, a boy of average height with brown glasses covered eyes and short brown hair looked over to his friend, Ashley Faulkner. Ashley was a boy of similar height to Chris, with black hair and brown eyes. He wore a black jacket, with a black Steel Wench shirt and blue jeans and black trainers. This contrasted with Chris' orange shirt, leather jacket and blue jeans; complete with black trainers.

"Fuck off, that was a great hit." He replied with mock hurt.

"Right, tell me that when you learn how to actually play cricket." Ashley replied.

"Heads are bigger targets than bloody cricket balls." Chris muttered, looking around the street they were in.

"That may be, but if you can hit a head, then why not cricket balls?"

"Because heads aren't thrown at me at high speeds."

Ashley pondered this. "Good point."

"So where are we actually going anyway?" Ash asked, looking to Chris.

"The donut shop that's nearby, it's in the middle of the city so no one else will have gone for it yet." Chris reminded him, hefting his blood-stained bat.

"Ah right. Why not swing by the gun shop too? We don't have any guns."

"Because far more people will have gone for the gun shop. Think, if you were in need of instant defence, then you would go for a gun after a close quarters weapon, right?"

"True, but there's bound to be something there." Ashley argued, hefting his golf club over his shoulder.

"Hidden behind the thirty-odd walking corpses, yeah there may be." Chris bitterly responded with.

"Alright then, just the donut shop."

"Yup."

The two continued to walk side by side in the middle of the street, noticing an absence of zombies.

"You know, we're lucky that we were near the Tartan Mart in the first place. Just a shame that not very many of the lads made it."

Chris looked to Ashley, face expressionless. "Who knows? Maybe Billy and Francis made it. We just have to wait and see."

Ashley mocked great shock, widening his eyes and clutching at his heart. "Is that optimism I hear, from the most miserable bastard I know?"

Chris glowered at Ashley. "No, it's realism. I just thought you would appreciate some optimism." He sarcastically replied, his monotone voice being deliberately used.

"Oh Chris, you're so considerate to me!" Ashley mockingly gushed, before the two chuckled from their little scene.

"Glad I could brighten your day." Chris replied, smirking at Ashley.

"You don't lighten my day as much as the smell of donuts, speaking of which, we're here." Chris looked to his right at the small donut shop. He also noticed many zombies crowded around a distant office building.

"Shouldn't be surprised that you can smell food over the smell of the dead you fat piece of shit. Let's get quickly in, take what we need and go, the zombies are distracted down there."

"Oh, you're such a charmer Christopher." Ashley sarcastically replied, rolling his eyes as the two walked to the door of the shop.

* * *

><p>"Hey Lily."<p>

"Hey dad. What's up?"

"Nothing much. Just got back from the Harrison's. Did you know that they had a fully loaded shotgun in their bedroom?"

Lily gasped in shock. "No way. The Harrison's? As in, the good old 'pacifist' Harrison's?"

"Yeah, those exact Harrison's. Sam says it's a Warden shotgun; practically beat us away from it. Something about it being an 'unreliable' weapon at best." Thomas Ritter explained, air quoting in a sarcastic manner.

"Well, that's why we leave that sort of stuff to her, she knows about this sorta thing." Lily countered, looking wryly at her father.

Thomas Ritter had black, balding hair with a cream striped shirt. He also had blue jeans with brown workers boots, his trusty backpack on his back.

"Hello, is anyone still alive? Hello?" The radio blurted out, slightly shocking Lily, who quickly activated the microphone for the radio.

"Hello, I'm a survivor. Friendly too! Where are you at? Do you need help?" Lily quickly asked, focusing her attention on the radio and listening to the survivor.

"Thank God. There's me and one other survivor, and we're both really hurt. I think I've cracked my ribs," he then groaned in pain, before continuing. "But Sheila's got it really bad; I think she's twisted her ankle."

"I'll send someone to try and bring you back here; hopefully we can help you then."

"Thank you, oh thank you! We're holed up in the Ranger's station at Mt Tanner, please come quick!"

Lily sighed in relief. "Sure thing; and what's your name? The person I send will need to know that it's you."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm called Wendell Higgins."

"All right then Wendell. Someone will be on their way soon."

"Ok, thanks Miss…?"

"Lily, Lily Ritter."

"Ok, thanks Miss Ritter."

Lily then turned the microphone off.

"I'll go Lily." Thomas said; just before she got a chance to turn around too.

"Are you sure Dad? Mt Tanner's quite far away, and you know our rule with only one person heading out at any time, right?"

"Of course I do Lily; I need to help those people."

Lily stayed silent for a moment and looked down at her lap.

"Hey." Thomas gently knelt down and lifted her chin up with his left hand. "I'll be back before you know it." He then gave her a reassuring smile.

"Ok then dad… just hurry back. Please." Her voice slightly cracked at the last word.

Thomas slightly frowned, knowing she was still very worried about Jacob, just like he was, who had disappeared hours ago. He then gave her a hug, which Lily strongly returned.

"I'll be back soon, safe and sound. Just you wait and see."


	2. I will not bow

I do not own State of Decay, I have written this purely for fun. I also do not own anything mentioned here but my OC'S.

**Chapter 2: I will not bow**

23/12/2012

"Stand up."

Master Sergeant Ryan Dunn looked up to Captain Diane Montressor, seeing her standing directly in front of him.

"What?" He asked, confusion being openly displayed on his face.

"I said get up soldier; we have to get a move on." Montressor replied, scowling as she hefted her UMP pro.

"And who made you the boss?" Sergeant Erik Tan loudly questioned, walking towards her aggressively.

"I am the highest ranking soldier still alive, which means that I lead this unit." Montressor coldly replied.

"We're nowhere near any military bases; they won't let us back into Fairfield after we left, the best leader should lead us, and I'll be damned if it's you." Tan hissed, his M16D held tightly to his chest.

"And who do you think would be most fit to lead us, soldier? If you're so confident in the decision that I shouldn't lead us, who should?"

"Do we really need a lead-?" Dunn went to question, but was swiftly cut off.

"YES!" Montressor and Tan hissed at him, before resuming their argument.

Dunn simply held up his hands in a gesture of peace, before walking to the group of Winters, Woodrow and Luther on the other side of the room.

"What do you guys think? Should we have a leader?" He asked them.

"Not bothered." Luther quietly replied.

"I gotta go with Luther here." Woodrow responded with, checking the launching mechanism of his grenade launcher.

"As long as it isn't Tan, I'm not bothered either." Winters told Dunn, looking to him with a blank stare.

"Ok then, we should probably scout the area shouldn't we?"

"Just get Luther to the roof; he's got a sniper hasn't he?" Winters asked Dunn, looking to Luther.

Luther simply picked up his MK.15 rifle and walked to the window they climbed through earlier. Dunn quickly followed him, with Winters and Woodrow staying where they were seated.

Dunn looked up to the roof and saw no ladder, before looking to Luther.

"I'll help you up, and then you help me up, ok?"

Luther nodded his agreement, and put his MK.15 in its holster on his back. Dunn then cupped his hands, which Luther then put his boot in it and used it as a jump up to the roof. Once he scrambled up, Dunn jumped with an outstretched hand and Luther pulled him up.

The two then looked out to the horizon. Not even stopping to admire the sunrise's beauty, Luther quickly set up at the edge of the roof, aiming through his snipers scope. He scanned the city as Dunn tiredly lay down nearby, the sound of Tan and Montressor's bickering attracting various zed.

"If this continues, I'm splintering off." Luther quietly muttered, just loud enough for Dunn to hear.

"You can't man! We need you!" Dunn whispered loudly, looking at Dunn in shock.

"If they continue, the group will fall apart. That isn't a guess, it's a fact." Luther growled, his scope grazing past two figures barging their way into a donut shop.

"Over there." He quickly mumbled to Dunn who immediately looked to where Luther's finger was pointing.

"Two figures. Non- infected. Both have blunt objects; no firearms."

"Should I go check it out?" Dunn asked, pulling back the chamber of his M4A1.

"Shadow them. Find their base. Then return."

"What about the others? Should we tell them?" Dunn asked, looking down at Luther's prone form.

"No. I'll cover for you."

"Fair enough." Dunn then ran to the edge of the roof and jumped to the next building along.

* * *

><p>Chris barged into the door, making a loud slamming sound as the door swung open. The two got inside and froze for a moment, hiding behind the counter while waiting to see if any zed replied.<p>

After two minutes of waiting, there was no reply.

Ashley quickly pulled himself up, before walking into the back of the shop, as Chris went to close the front door. Ashley quickly rushed into the back, wielding his golf club. His chosen tactic saved him from the hungry jaws of a zed.

A ripped and torn white apron adorned the zombie, along with an employee's uniform for the shop. Ashley loudly gasped in shock, before backpedalling into a wall after slamming into the infected. The infected fell back into a cupboard, several pans and pots falling from their shelves and onto the floor.

Ashley then quickly gripped the base of the club with both hands and swung at the zombie's head. The impact of this sent the zombie into a mop and bucket, generating even more noise.

Chris quickly rushed into the back to see what the commotion was, before hearing several moans from the front of the shop. He quickly looked to Ashley.

"Hurry the fuck up and kill that zombie and get the food before we get fucking swamped you stupid dipshit!" Chris angrily told him, before rushing back to the front to try and hold the front door shut against the infected that had amassed by it. The large window next to it had already had a large barricade of tables and chairs set up, leaving only the back door as vulnerable. No zombies had gone in that direction however.

Ashley quickly punched the zombie in the face, making it turn to the side from the impact, before he lowered its head over a still active frying vat. He then pulled the mop out of the bucket, and smashed the zombie over the head with the bucket, making its head careen into the vat of liquid. This caused it to try and pull its head out of the machine, before the brain became damaged.

Ashley was not finished though, as he held the bin over the zombies head and held it there until the unholy monster stopped thrashing, where he continued to hold it for ten more seconds before letting go. He then dropped the bucket and began to desperately search for food.

He quickly pulled open a cabinet, pulling out all the plates, pots and pans but found no food. He then checked the cabinet underneath it, and found a box of donuts. He quickly pulled it out and put it on a counter before continuing his search.

Chris was struggling however, the number of zombies gathering outside reaching over fifteen zombies. He desperately pushed against the leading zombie that was trying to push the door open, a zombie in full military armour. As valiant as his stand against them was, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

He looked back to see Ashley run around the corner of the back to him, holding an average sized box.

"THE BACK! THROUGH THE BLOODY BACK!" Chris screamed, giving Ashley five seconds to open the back, before looking again. Ashley had opened the back and was beckoning to Chris; box tucked under one of his arms.

Chris then gave the door one last heavy push, before he started to sprint in the direction his friend had gone. He rounded the corner to see Ashley climbing on to a wall, before throwing the box of food they had collected onto the roof of the shop they were just on. The box fell however, cracking slightly from the fall. Ashley then jumped onto the roof, pulling himself up.

Chris then picked up the box and threw it up to Ashley, before he clambered up the wall himself. He then made the jump, successfully reaching the roof.

"Damn, that was close." Ashley panted, looking to see zombies completely swarming the alleyway.

Chris held a finger to his lips; before the two looked down to see the zombies staring up at them.

"Shit, we're going to be here for a while." Chris groaned, lying down in exhaustion. "What did we get anyway?"

"About thirty two donuts." Ashley mumbled, replacing the lid of the box carefully.

"If we ration that out properly between eight survivors, we can all have one donut each for four days." Chris then huffed in exasperation, before rubbing his face with his hands, his glasses being lifted to his hair and being left there.

"Better than having fuck all to eat though, right?" Ashley asked, attempting to lighten the mood of his companion.

"I guess." Chris mumbled; his face still covered by his hands as he lay back on the roof.

A rather loud groan was then heard. Chris immediately reached for his cricket bat, pulling his glasses down to his eyes before searching for the problem, Ashley reaching for his golf club.

"What the fuck was that?" Ash mumbled, looking around the roof until he was pounced upon from behind, letting out a grunt as it happened.

Chris immediately turned to his friend, seeing an extremely decayed looking zombie going to take a bite out of his friend. He quickly charged into it before it could, picking it up and slamming it into the floor. He was then picked up by it however, and thrown at Ashley who was just pulling himself up.

The zombie then lifted its head and let out a terrifying roar, arms stretching out to the side. The next thing the two heard as they recovered was a loud splattering noise, and the sound of a body collapsing. They managed to look to see the zombie left without a head, having been killed mid-roar.

"What happened?" Chris questioned, confused by the turn of events. He got closer to it, wielding his bat with Ashley close behind him. They then saw blood showered to the east of where the zombies head was facing.

"I think someone shot it, but who?" Ashley wondered, slightly relaxing.

"Fuck if I know, I'm just grateful that they saved our asses."

* * *

><p>The hooded man ran past a destroyed home, holding his left forearm tightly to stop any blood from escaping. While he knew the zed weren't like sharks, he didn't want to take the chance.<p>

He continued to run until he reached the barn that he was currently occupying, pulling out his short wakizashi as he reached the door. He looked inside to see two zed, who he knew wouldn't be a problem. He quickly closed the huge barn doors, before rushing to the first zombie.

It lunged at him as he ran closer to it, forcing him to slide across the floor, raising his blade as he passed through its legs.

He then jumped back up to his feet, immediately performing a spinning flip over the military zombie that was directly in front of him. As he landed, he fell on to his back from his bad landing. The military zed then fell on to him, attempting to bite any part of his body. Luckily, his blade had left it impaled above him, so that it didn't bite him. However, that was only until the weight of the corpse overcame his own strength, even slightly, as the zombie was just a couple of centimetres from his face, only just unable to bite him.

The creature snarled as it attempted to claw him, his only response being to grab his MPX and to shoot it in the side of the head. The zed moaned pitifully as it collapsed to his side.

The hooded man let out one quick breath before jumping back to his feet and emptying the last of his MPX's clip into the other zed's head.

As the second zombie fell, he changed his clip and replaced his used suppressor. He then heard one pitiful moan. He looked back to the armoured zombie and inspected it closely.

"A headshot is meant to be a one hit kill…"

* * *

><p>A black pickup truck roared as it raced along the empty roads. Its path was empty, apart from the occasional zombie on the road. Thomas Ritter tried the cars radio, but there was no stations active. If the emergency broadcast weren't counted of course.<p>

When he finally reached the bridge that led to Mount Tanner's Ranger station, he stopped his truck.

"Jesus Christ…" He muttered, looking at the collapsed bridge. He looked around, seeing a few zombies stomping around the area. He crouched quickly, before slowly walking to the bridge's edge. He looked down to see two burnt out cars and about over thirty corpses.

"Bridge must have given out, too much weight." He hypothesized, seeing a small cliff to his left that could safely take him down to the river level. The river seemed to have a very low level of water. The other side also had what resembled to be rocky steps.

A low moan sounded out, and a he quickly looked behind him to see a zombie slam into a tree, falling to the floor.

"Getting paranoid." Thomas uttered to himself, slightly chuckling at the thought.

Thomas then quickly darted over to the cliff, where he sat down on the edge. He then gripped the sides and slowly lowered himself down, before letting go.

The rather loud splash of water from the impact resonated throughout the area, Thomas hearing multiple grunts and groans that signified the zombies being alerted to his presence. He quickly sprinted to the cliff steps on the other side of the river. As he reached the steps, he looked backwards to see three zombies fall of the cliff of the side he was just at. His heart quickened dramatically and he breathed heavier, before he quickly raced up the steps and charged into the forest on the other side of the river.

Branches and bushes were pushed aside as he raced through the forest, only letting him hear his own panicked breathing. As he ran, he noticed a large wooden building through the trees ahead. However, as he gawped at the ranger station, he accidentally ran straight into a zombie. The monstrosity moaned gutturally as it attempted to grab him with its cold, clammy hands.

Thomas loudly gasped in fear, jumping off of the creature and backpedalling quickly in his shock. Another clammy paw slapped onto his shoulder as he moved, making him yell in surprise. He quickly head-butted the creature behind him, physically removing its hand from his shoulder, before breaking out into a desperate sprint.

He quickly vaulted a low brick wall as he ran, looking back to see about ten zombies following him, at least three running. He then charged up to the door of the station, before practically flying through the door.

Two squeals of surprise greeted him, before Thomas quickly held the door shut with the remainder of his strength. The other two occupants of the station quickly caught on and started to move a desk to the door. Thomas moved away at the last second as the two placed the desk in front of the door. The female then collapsed, crying out in pain as she clutched her ankle in agony.

The male looked up to Thomas. "I- I see you made it here. In spectacular fas- fashion too."

"What can I say? I aim to please." Thomas retorted, grinning slightly, before his face dropped again.

"I'm Thomas. I take it you're Wendell right?"

"The one and only."


	3. Hopeless

I do not own State of Decay, I have written this purely for fun. I also do not own anything mentioned here but my OC's.

Replies to reviews:

drakeonis: Thanks. Don't worry, you will be seeing more. I hope to update in a regular fashion, a chapter every Saturday.

ernestgoestocamp: Thanks, I'm hoping to inspire more people to write for this genre with this.

Lord Of Wolves Fang: Thank you very much.

mk14ebr: Thank you, and I see your point. I saw the story disappear and wanted to revive this story community, and so I made this to try and help with that.

**Chapter 3: Hopeless**

23/12/2012

"Right then, looks like we're back."

Chris looked up, seeing the sign of the Tartan Mart they were occupying, and sighed in relief.

They quickly jogged to the front of the shop, knocking on the front door since they were barricaded.

A face with dull brown eyes and short brown hair popped up, looking to see the both of them non-infected. He then got to work in moving the cabinets that blocked one of the doors.

As the final cabinet was removed, Chris held the door open for Ashley as he passed the person the supplies they had gained. The two then entered the mini mart, before replacing their barricade.

"Took you long enough." Lewis Sweetland scolded them, directing Ashley to put the crate on the counter. Lewis was dressed in a black shirt with a joker face on it, a brown coat, blue jeans and a set of black trainers. He was of average height, just taller than Chris. He was also slightly overweight, although it was barely noticeable.

"Not exactly our fault, at least a couple hordes jumped us." Chris replied, reaching for a Pepsi from one of the fridges.

"Whatever." Lewis growled, removing the lid from the crate. "How many donuts did you get?"

"Something like thirty two donuts." Ashley replied, finishing his scan of the mini mart. "Where's Rachel?"

"Out." Tyrone Buckland cut in, walking from the storeroom out of the back of the shop. He was dressed in a blue shirt with a black coat, blue jeans and white trainers. He was a very tall person, with brown eyes and messy brown hair. His face barely held any expressions other than either being blank or grinning, being only just more expressionless than Chris. His skin was a dark brown.

"Oh well then, I better go find her then!" Ashley mirthfully replied, making his way to the ladder.

As Ashley climbed up to the roof, Chris looked to Lewis. "Has anybody else been sent out, or are they all on the roof?"

"We sent out Rachel to get us some medicine about twenty minutes ago. Caitlin and Anna went for materials from the warehouse to the left of us five minutes ago. Miranda went to scavenge some food from Swine & Bovine."

Lewis had a quick look through a crack in the barricade on the leftmost window to see the two sneaking their way around the warehouse, three large duffel bags filled with items sat at the entrance of the building.

"It looks like they might be done soon. Chris, go out the back way and help them move those bags." Lewis ordered.

"Why can't you do it?"

"I'll be clearing the barricades for the front doors, especially since you're a bloody weakling."

"I'm not weak! Just because I don't have the 'advantage' of-"

"Of what Chrissy?" Lewis questioned threateningly, getting closer to Christopher. "You want to finish that fucking sentence you fucking coward?"

Chris glared at him for a couple of seconds, before moving to go out the back way, huffing as he went. He opened the back door, which opened into the back of a wheel-less van which was purposefully placed directly in front of the door. He then closed the door, before he opened one of the vans sliding side doors and exited, closing it before walking away. This van was effectively an extra defence for the back door, leaving no need for a barricade since its windows were blocked up with planks of wood nailed over them.

As Chris then crouched and slowly made his way to Caitlin and Anna, he looked at the dead that patrolled the street in front of the two buildings. They shambled and stuttered in step, in a way that made Chris think of the danse macabre, how life is futile, no matter how powerful you think you are.

The thought left his mind, imprinting his face with a scowl as he stealthily slid into the warehouse.

"Caitlin? Anna?" He quietly whispered, seeing two familiar faces quickly turn to him, a nightstick and a frying pan being raised.

"Chris?" Caitlin asked, lowering her nightstick. "What are you doing here?" Caitlin was quite short, with blonde hair comfortably reaching to her chest, blue eyes, wearing blue jeans, white converse and a white shirt reaching to her stomach.

"I'm here to help." Chris replied, closing the door of the warehouse as he stood, his voice still being kept to a whisper.

"You came a bit late then, didn't you?" Anna scolded. "We're pretty much done." Anna stood at the same height as Caitlin, wearing a black beanie with a yellow bobble, a black set of hipster glasses, white and black DC converse, blue skinny jeans and a white iron man shirt. She also had long brown hair and brown eyes.

"I'll help you move the bags then." Chris offered, seeing a grand total of five bags.

He picked up two of them and put the straps on his shoulders, before gripping both handles for both of them, slightly struggling with the weight.

"Which way are we going in then?" Caitlin asked Chris, looking to him.

"Whichever way you want Caitlin." Chris lowly replied, waggling his eyebrows.

Chris and Anna let out quiet, suppressed chuckles while Caitlin hid a blush in the dark of the warehouse.

"I meant which entrance to the tartan mart, asshole!" Caitlin hissed, crossing her arms.

"The front. Lewis and Tyrone are clearing the way as we speak."

"Alright then. Now, if you've got two bags, and me and Anna have one each, what are we going to do about that final bag?" Caitlin questioned.

"Can't any of you two carry it?" Chris questioned, looking to the two of them.

"I can't." Caitlin replied, holding the straps of her duffel bag up to her shoulder.

"I probably can." Anna replied, hefting her current bags strap around her neck, before lifting the other bag.

"Lead the way Caitlin." Chris told her, gesturing her to the back door, where there were less zeds.

She nodded to him, before opening the door and checking for zeds. Seeing none, she waved at the two to follow her, before slowly making her way to the side of the tartan mart. The two quickly followed, Anna struggling quite a bit with her bags.

"Almost there Anna, just hold on." Chris whispered, struggling with the weight of the materials himself. Caitlin then led them around the side of the building, and opened the front door for them. As they slipped in, she slowly and quietly closed the door, before helping Lewis and Tyrone to barricade it again.

* * *

><p>Master Sergeant Ryan Dunn lowered the binoculars from his eyes, having been viewing the entire spectacle from the top of a house not incredibly far from the survivors' base.<p>

He noted in his mind the Tartan mart close to the Swine and Bovine's and the Snyder trucking warehouse held a rather large group of survivors, and then grinned. He then gently lowered himself down the side of the house, before releasing his grip. The soft thud of impact did not attract any zombie's, to which he huffed a sigh of relief.

He then started to slowly make his way to the office building that his team had taken shelter in, his M4A1 cocked and ready to fire, should he encounter any zed that get too close. He quickly attached a machine-made suppressor to the rifle, feeling glad that his next fifty bullets will be cushioned by the contraption.

He looked ahead to a bridge, to see around ten zombies infesting it. He couldn't afford to pass by them, as he needed to save as much time as possible; Luther needed to know about these survivors. Dunn quickly got onto his knees, before rubbing the black stubble on his face, his short black hair hidden beneath his helmet. His green eyes focused upon the head of the closest zombies. He slowed his breathing down, in an attempt to better his aim.

He then fired, popping the head of his first target like a melon, before popping three more heads in quick succession. They rest of the zombies then noticed him, and had started to run towards him. A quick three shots to the neck severed the head from the body of the fifth zombie. A shot to the left eye disabled the sixth zombie, its collapse causing two more to fall over. The last two zombies still standing received a barrage of bullets through their chests, the force of the bullets rupturing enough arteries and blood vessels to render the bodies unusable. The last two zombies were dispatched with headshots as they writhed around on the ground.

Ryan then started to sprint, reloading his weapon, having used all thirty one bullets in that attack. He quickly ran, until he saw a zombie with a rather bloated stomach ahead of him.

"Holy shit…" Ryan noticed that the zombie was wearing a yellow shirt with blue jean shorts. It also looked like a previously heavily pregnant teenage girl.

He looked around, seeing multiple zombies closing in on him from all sides, but the rotter was all by itself on that side.

Ryan quickly made his decision. He shot the abomination through the skull, the force of the corpse hitting the floor popping the stomach. An extremely powerful smell of death and decay filled the air, making Ryan cringe in disgust, before he ran. A pale cloud appeared to form above the body, Ryan sprinting through hit without hesitation.

The moment he did, he continued to try and run to his team's makeshift base, but found that this noxious gas was forcing the oxygen from his lungs, making it harder to breathe. He coughed and spluttered as his sprint slowed to a shambling run, to an agonizingly slow walk. Ryan leaned on a nearby wall and vomited, the foul liquid hitting the floor with a splat.

As Ryan continued to hack his guts up, he heard the shambling of corpses and groaning around him, but found that he could not move. He simply couldn't find the breath or the energy to move.

One particularly loud moaning sound was cut off, a distinctive splatter of a silenced impacting round cutting it off. Another splat then sounded off. The next four shots were drowned out by the sound of Ryan's vomiting.

At last, a barrage of bullets impacted the horde that was beginning to congregate around Ryan. Two strong hands grabbed him by his armpits, and lifted his arms over their shoulders. The added motion sickness caused Ryan to spew up again, being left unable to see anything through his constant bouts of vomiting. He blacked out as a door was kicked open.

* * *

><p>A green box with a white cross on it is opened. A roll of bandages removed from it. A calloused, tanned hand begins to wrap the end around a cut. He continuously wraps the cut, until he is sure it is secure. He then cuts the end off of the roll, and tucks the end beneath the bottom layer.<p>

He lightly tugs the bandage, satisfied in its security, before he puts the roll back in the box and tucks it away. He grunts in discontent, looking to the two bodies placed in front of the window at the front of the barn.

The man with the shark hoodie then lifts the armoured corpse, and throws it over the edge. He then quickly moves to the other body and throws that over too. Content with his work, he moves to his stockpile of food. After rooting through his supplies, he realises that he is down to four tins of beans. As he takes one and heats it with a pot cooker, he readies himself for a trip.

He turns the pot cooker off when he is finished, and peels the lid off of the beans. He then takes a spoon and begins to eat, his malnourished body allowing him to devour the beans within a minute.

He burps with a feeling of contentment, and then licks the spoon clean before he places it with his other spoons. He then goes down to the door and opens it. Pushing aside the corpses that he had just dropped, he sweeps a door open wide. He then sprints out, his target being the Swine and Bovine across the road from a gas station.

He jogs quietly along a road, nearing the already close bridge that led to the back half of the city. Luckily, a horde had not decided to gather upon it, but one most definitely will soon. He sprints across the bridge with a level of speed unmatched by any. After he stops to take a breath, he looks up to the Swine and Bovine that is now ahead of him, three zombies standing in his way.

He unsheathes his wakizashi's, and sprints forth. As he approaches the first zombie, it swings its heavily decayed face in his direction, red eyes boring into him. He runs past it, before spinning in a circle, and decapitating the monster with one clean swing.

He continued to run, his second target being less decayed than the rest, and running towards him. The Shark hoodie man jumped into the air and turned, his left foot extended with his right tucked beneath him. He held his swords in the air, preparing for his attack. His foot kicked into the zombies face with such force that the spinal cord snapped, the head lolling back uselessly as the body collapsed.

His third target didn't even get the chance to see him as he planted a sword in the middle of its skull.

Satisfied with his work, the man sprinted to the Swine and Bovine. He attempted to pull the door open, but it was locked shut. The man cursed, before ramming the door. He was met with no success. He rammed it again, with the same results. The third barge knocked the door open however, alerting the zombie behind the counter that was inside.

The shark hoodie man reacted quickly, kicking the cash register into its face, before leaping over the counter and plunging both of his swords into the monsters skull. He quickly caught his breath, before gathering two duffel bags worth of supplies, and putting them in the back room.

After he was done, he sighed in relief, before seeing a huge zombie lumber towards one of the windows, indicating that he must have made too much noise. He ducked beneath the counter, keeping himself as quiet as possible.

He listened intently as he lay, listening as the window smashed. Listening as the monsters deep and heavy groans penetrated the fast food restaurant. Listened as tables and chairs scraped aside to accommodate the creature's size. Listened as it growled in intense anger, and seized him from behind the counter.

The man cried out in shock, before planting his swords into the creature's skull. It roared in pain but survived, his swords stuck in its skull. He quickly flipped as the monstrosity released its grip, landing neatly on the ground. The monster then raised both of its fists and slammed them into the floor, the man having barely rolled out of the way. He quickly ran around the side of the monster, jumping onto a table before flipping backwards, landing in a sitting position on the back of its shoulders.

He grabbed his MPX and went to fire into its head, when the creature grabbed him by his left leg, and lifted him high into the air. The momentary loss of balance caused the man to drop his MPX and yell in fear and pain. The creature's grip began to crush his foot, its other meaty hand gripping him by the stomach. It then began to pull.

The man screamed in agony as he heard the bones in his foot begin to separate and be crushed into several pieces. Tears streamed from his eyes as the pain surpassed his common sense in trying not to attract more zombies. He looked to the monsters face, seeing his short sword slightly loose. He quickly grabbed it and pulled it out of the monsters head, before ramming it straight down the centre of the zombies face.

The zombie groaned as it released its grip on him, making him drop to the ground and cry out as he landed on his bad foot. The zombie fell backwards languidly, the two swords protruding from its head. The man crawled towards the zombies head, crying out in pain every time his left foot made contact with the floor. He then pulled out his swords and sheathed his longer one, whispering to the zombie.

"Rot in hell you Big Bastard." He then stabbed it in the face again, before sheathing his short sword. He looked to the two entrances to see three zombies shamble in.

He quickly crawled to his MPX, before dispatching the first zombie with a headshot, the second with several shots to the chest and a shot to the neck with the final zombie. He then crawled to the back room and leaned against the wall, whimpering in pain.

* * *

><p>"Is this station secure?"<p>

"As secure as we can possibly make it." Wendell replied, looking out of the now boarded up windows.

"Is there any more survivors out there?" Thomas questioned, looking directly at Wendell.

"There may be. You should check the tents."

"How many tents are there?"

"At least five." Wendell grunted, clutching his rib.

"Alright then. I'll be back later; I'll need to search those cabins later too."

"Good luck."

As Thomas left the cabin and shut the door, he looked out to see two tents close by. He quickly rushed to them, reaching for his radio as he went.

"Lily?"

"Dad? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine Lily, I just called to tell you that the survivors are definitely there."

Lily sighed in relief. "Good. Are you on your way back?"

"Not yet. I'm checking for more survivors."

Lily huffed in concern. "Just be careful."

She then hung up on Thomas, who frowned before pressing on. As he reached the first tent, he looked inside to see no survivors, but a gun was laid on a bench inside. On the floor, there was a man with a huge axe in his face. He wore military camouflage, black boots and cap. He seemed less like a military man and more of a hunter.

"Suicide." Thomas muttered in sadness, picking up the gun. Carved on the side was some writing, which said '700 huntsman. Property of Lincoln Voss.'

He then picked up the axe, which seemed to have been named by 'Lincoln Voss', as 'The Splitting Maul'. He quickly put both on his back, before moving to the next tent. He had no success there, not even a weapon. The third tent also yielded no results, but the fourth had a zombie and a small cache of food. The splitting maul quickly dealt with that zombie, before he raided the food and put it all in a duffel bag.

He then moved to the fifth tent, seeing no one inside. He sighed in sadness, before making his way back to the Rangers station.

* * *

><p>The person clutched at their wrist in agony, out of sight of the stations other occupant. They quickly looked to their wrist, the bite mark causing intense pain for them.<p>

They were not infected. They couldn't be, they had survived so far, they had survived their sickness. The nurses had even said so. What cruel God would strike them again? They were not infected, but anyone who glimpses the bite would assume they were.

They just had to hold on a little longer, and they would be safe.

* * *

><p>Here is the list of survivors so far.<p>

Group: OC Survivors

Christopher Dilsworth

Ashley Faulkner

Lewis Sweetland

Tyrone Buckland

Caitlin Forde

Anna Chamberlin

Rachel Bruzzone

Abigail Manassa

Group:Military

K.C Winters

Evan Woodrow

Diane Montressor

Raymond Luther

Ryan Dunn

Erik Tan

Group Canon:

Thomas Ritter

Lily Ritter

Alan Gunderson

Pastor William Mulroney

Sam Hoffman

Lone survivor:

Shark hoodie guy


	4. Crimson day

I do not own State of Decay, I have written this purely for fun. I also do not own anything mentioned here but my OC's.

Sorry this took so long, I had a lot of stuff going on.

**Chapter 4: Crimson Day**

23/12/2012

"What'd we get?" Lewis asked, finishing the barricading of the door.

"Materials." Chris replied vaguely.

"Gee, I never would have thought." Lewis replied, rolling his eyes, before opening one of the bags. He then proceeded to pull out nails, screws, tools; anything that could be used for construction, at least one of those items was in there, apart from one.

"I assume that the other four bags are filled with planks." Lewis questioned, looking up to Caitlin and Anna.

"Pretty much. Some tools and such in them too." Anna replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Alright then. What are we gonna do with these?" Ashley asked, having come down with Rachel when the three returned.

"When did she return?" Chris questioned, looking to Rachel.

"A couple of minutes before you returned. Got us 5 codeine bottles and 2 ibuprofen bottles. I say we stash 'em." Tyrone answered.

"Couldn't we find another use for them?" Rachel pondered, looking around the tartan mart.

"The barricades will fail eventually. We need replacement materials stashed."

"Sounds good to me." Lewis finished the debate, picking up two bags and taking them to the designated material area, one of the freezers out in the back of the shop.

With that, the group dispersed. Tyrone went back to his corner of the shop, taking a seat against the wall, also quite far away from the barricaded windows. Ashley and Rachel went back to the roof, barely separating from each other. Caitlin and Anna also went to the roof, but to talk with Abigail, and Chris simply went for a Pepsi, taking a seat against the freezer, his stash of drinks stored right beside him. Lewis stayed in the small storeroom, most likely sorting through the supplies to look for weapons.

As Chris opened his can, he looked out of the relatively close window, searching for any sign of Miranda. He did not see any, and went back to his seat. He observed the shop as he quietly sat, his face showing a deep-set frown. As he took another sip, he reached under the freezer that his drinks were in, and pulled out a book. He had taken to reading well before the zombies appeared, and had no intention of stopping. He was reading a zombie book, simply because it was a good book, and some of the tips about zombies inside may prove to be useful one day.

Lewis walked out of the storeroom, having acquired a particularly nasty looking cracked pipe. He walked over to his own claimed 'station' in the Tartan mart, behind the counter. He delicately placed the cracked pipe among his many other weapons, some of them being a switchblade with his name carved in it, a wooden bat, a golf club, and his prized possession: an axe that he found in the fire station. He smirked at the growing size of his stash, before losing the grin and pulling a large notebook out from under the cash register. He placed it on the counter, and opened a drawer, seeing it full of pencils and pens. He selected the sharpest pencil, and began to sketch.

Tyrone simply examined the mart they were in, looking for any unprotected, and unforeseen, entrances that they had not covered. He could not see any, but he continued to look, mainly due to a lack of pastime. Ashley had Rachel, Chris had his books, Lewis had his sketching, his was observing. He noticed Chris reading with a near blank expression on his face, taking contented sips of his beloved Pepsi every so often. He saw Lewis occasionally glancing below the counter, looking at the weapon stash that he prizes so much. He noticed everything, and he'd be damned if anything, zombie or not, got past his line of vision.

Abigail looked up from her manga at Caitlin and Anna, the two of them having random conversations about anything they can think of to stave away the boredom. The two didn't really read, despite her attempts to get the two into the hobby. As of now, they were not talking at all, instead just thinking. Abigail quickly went back to her book, leaning against the rather high edge of the roof.

Caitlin was thinking about anything to help her keep out of a morose mood, although there wasn't much to help her. She was currently thinking about a way to get her phone back on, so she could either call for help or listen to some of the music she had bought off of iTunes. There was a former Apple shop nearby; it could contain a multitude of spare batteries for her phone. Anything to help her relax…

Anna was reminiscing on her now deceased mother. Having already spent many of her tears, she was left sniffling and her eyes constantly watering. She looked down at the photo of her and her mother, wishing she could smile once more, as she had back then. She looked off of the roof top, to see a familiar short figure walking to the Tartan Mart, prompting her to go and open the back door, and then the door in the van to let her in.

As soon as the girl climbed into the van and smiled her appreciation, Anna closed the door.

* * *

><p>"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING OUT THERE DUNN?"<p>

A furious Diane Montressor was giving Dunn the interrogation of a lifetime, the others in the room keenly listening in while trying to be as subtle as possible.

Ryan dry heaved twice, before lowering his head onto his hands and groaning.

"WELL?"

"I was searching the area Ma'am, to see if there was anything of use." Dunn quietly replied, his throat sore and burning from his previous vomiting.

"With the way you were out there, I guess you found something good." Montressor growled.

"I ran into a zombie with a bl-bloated stomach, it released a sort of gas that made me vomit uncontrollably, I think this gas was stored in the stomach." He quietly and slowly replied, trying to avoid aggravating his lungs after they had inhaled the noxious gas.

"Anything else?"

"Armoured SWAT and military zombies, who seem all but immune to bullets, those bloaters, and some weird fast zombies that seemed almost... feral. If you mean other pieces of useful intel, I got none."

Montressor frowned, before walking away from Ryan, leaving him to his own devices. As soon as she went away, Ryan left to climb onto the rooftop, waiting for Luther to join him. After a wait of 10 minutes, Luther clambered onto the rooftop, and crouched down next to his prone form.

"Well?" He questioned, looking to Dunn with a raised eyebrow.

"They're situated in a Tartan mart across the city, approximately 15 minutes' walk. I didn't see any guns, but they've got lots of melee weapons. They are also well barricaded, and have an estimated six people in it."

"Capable of self-defence?"

"Absolutely. They seem very well prepared. What are we gonna do about them?"

Luther pondered this for a moment, before speaking his thoughts.

"We'll hold back for now, and send someone to talk to them in the future. That way, we may get a link with them, and allies will be scarce in this apocalypse."

"You know, it's not exactly an apocalypse, it's only a couple of towns in America that are affected." Dunn looked to Luther, raising an eyebrow.

"That's as far as we know Dunn. Remember the reports of the Indian government moving down hordes of civilians from a month or two ago?"

"You think that's where this virus, infection, whatever the fuck this is, started?"

"Possibly an early test of a biological weapon."

Dunn looked to Luther incredulously. "You know, you're sounding incredibly paranoid about this. Didn't take you for a government conspiracy theorist."

"Paranoia is what is gonna keep us alive through this Dunn. Don't forget that."

* * *

><p>Bloodied hands parted with a frail leg, a large gash coming into contact with light rays. A light gasp escaped bruised lips, as the pain thrashed the man's injured leg. He slowly revealed his roll of bandages, and with shaking hands, wrapped a section of the roll around his leg. He then pulled tightly to secure it and gasped in pain, his eyes watering. Once he was done, he cut the roll and now applied bandages connection. He then gripped onto the locker behind him, and pulled himself up from the floor, having his gun and short sword holstered and his larger sword at the ready.<p>

He slowly hobbled forth, his right leg taking all of the weight of his body, his left leg being dragged along the floor behind him.

He hobbled past the zombie he had dubbed 'The Big Bastard', and shuffled his way to the door he had entered through. Upon reaching the outside, he saw that the area was full of zombies, leaving him little option but to fight his way out. He needed to find a crutch and sufficient medical supplies to last him.

He slowly shambled forward, his leg slowing him down massively. He rushed for the gas station that was across the street, spying a horde crossing the bridge that led to his hideout. He tried to hurry himself to the gas station, stabbing a zombie in the throat before wrenching his sword out. He then spun around on his right leg, cutting out another zombie's throat, managing to sever its spinal cord with the strong slash.

As he finished his 360 degree spin, he stabbed his sword into the ground to stop himself, before venturing forth, climbing slowly through an already-smashed window.

As he carefully held on to the windows frame, he gingerly planted his foot onto the ground on the other side of the window. Once he had a firm standing, he lifted his injured leg inside, and then he had a look around.

Seeing no inhabitants, he quickly lowered himself into a prone position on the floor, and started to crawl to the counter, so the passing horde wouldn't catch sight of him. He used his right leg as a crutch, his left leg being draped across the back of it. He used his powerful forearms to crawl, determined to make as little noise as possible.

Once he reached the corner of the counter, he quickly looked around it to see no human corpses, and pulled himself beneath the counter. The hooded man then curled himself into a foetus like position, except for his left leg, and waited for the horde to pass.

* * *

><p>The door to the Rangers station slowly creaked open, causing the two inhabitants to flinch and for Wendell to aim his pistol towards the door. Once they saw Thomas' face appear from behind the door, the two sighed in relief.<p>

"Any luck?" Wendell whispered in a croak-like fashion, looking hopefully for any sign of a survivor behind Thomas.

"No." Thomas tiredly replied, sitting down on a chair. "I found weapons and a dead body, suicide from what I could see."

"His name?" Sheila questioned, her voice showing signs of dehydration, as she collapsed into a coughing fit after croaking those two words.

"Lincoln Voss." Thomas replied, resting the rifle and maul against an empty fridge that had its door open, to store their supplies.

"H- he was the towns hunter. He lived in a shack nearby." Sheila told Thomas, pointing to the north west of the station.

"I'll check it ou-"The sound of the door creaking open interrupted Thomas, he and Wendell aiming their rifle and pistol hastily at the door.

A black skinned man with medium length black hair entered through the front door, brown eyes widening in surprise. He wore an orange shirt that had its sleeves rolled up with a green bomber jacket, and blue jeans. He also had brown boots. On his back he seemed to carry a metal oar, while his hands wielded a model 870 T shotgun.

The man was accompanied by a white skinned man with a blue striped t-shirt, a purple shirt with a logo beneath, a brown sleeveless jacket and brown trousers with brown boots. The man had no facial hair, with short brown hair covered by a cap and brown eyes. This man carried a PP 22 pistol in his left hand and an active fish stunner in his right.

"Stop right there." Thomas growled, aiming down the sights of Mr Voss' huntsman 700 rifle at the black skinned man.

The man in his sights had raised his shotgun at Thomas and held it there, unwilling to surrender himself. "Lower your gun."

"Don't try me kid." Thomas threatened, his trigger finger twitching.

"Er, Marcus? Maybe we should holster our weapons." The white skinned man behind 'Marcus' suggested, his pistol being aimed at Wendell who had a pistol aimed at him.

Marcus did not respond to him, but the man persisted. "Marcus? We did enter their base, just so you know. We should probably holster our guns."

Seeing himself outgunned, with his friend having his pistol holstered, Marcus growled. "Fine." He then lowered his shotgun.


	5. Nightmare

I do not own State of Decay, I have written this purely for fun. I also do not own anything mentioned here but my OC's.

My updates may be more regular now. I've fixed the mistakes I've made in the past couple of chapters.

**Chapter 5: Nightmare**

23/12/2012

The wave of shuffled footsteps, grunts and moans subsided after what felt like two hours. The man with the shark hoodie positioned his head just over the counter, only to see multiple zombies had infested the area outside, cutting off his escape route.

He frowned intensely, before crawling along the ground smoothly towards the back door. His leg caused him pain as he crawled, but he tried to focus more on the task at hand. His survival was more important than a temporary bit of leg pain. Once he got to be just in front of the door, he slowly pushed himself up into a crouching position, and reached up to the doorknob.

He twisted the doorknob slowly, noting that it was thankfully unlocked. He slowly pushed the door open, seeing no zombies in the way to the bushes on the other side of the drive-through. He began his slow crawl, his leg lazily being dragged along by the rest of his aching body. He looked to his left to see a rapidly approaching zombie running on its hands and feet as if it were a wild animal.

"What the fuck?" He whispered, drawing both of his wakizashi's as he gazed at the creature.

The zombie howled and leapt at him, allowing him a better look at the creature. It had yellow-green skin, which was quite different to the other zombies' skin colour; it also had bulging muscles, and appeared to be quite animalistic, especially so compared to its undead compatriots. Its fingers seemed to have been morphed into bloody claws of bone, and all of the skin around its mouth, gums and jaw was gone. Its teeth appeared to be pointy and sharper than ordinary zed teeth. The most horrifying part about the creature was definitely the fact that it was missing both of its eyes, yet it managed to tell where he was perfectly.

He kicked at its chest with his right leg, sending it flying back from its target. It got straight back up, and charged straight at him, lunging onto his stomach quickly. The ninja quickly stabbed it in the left side of its stomach with his long wakizashi in his right hand, and tried to stab it in the chin with his other blade.

The creature appeared to realise what he was attempting to do, and swiped the blade from his hand. He desperately reached for it.

His survival depended on it.

* * *

><p>Chris looked to his right as he heard the sound of a door opening, and the chatter of two girls reached his ears.<p>

"That you Anna?" He called out.

"It's me, Miranda's come back too." She replied, as she and Miranda walked through the doorway of the storeroom. Miranda was a short girl, with long brown hair that reached to her chest, dark brown eyes, and a rounded chin. She stood at about 4' 11, and wore dark blue jeans, a black shirt and a black zipped up hoodie, with the hood pulled over her head. She was carrying two large sacks on her back too, which she looked to be struggling with.

"Hey guys." Miranda said, waving for a moment to the three boys in the room.

"Hi." Lewis replied with, while Tyrone gave a deep "Hello.", and Chris simply waved, before taking another sip of his drink.

Miranda then shrugged one of the two sacks off of her back, and into her waiting right arm.

"I got as much food as I could carry, which was a surprising amount actually!" Miranda giggled slightly, before placing the sacks on the counter.

Lewis quickly began to look through the bags, before looking up to Miranda. "I see you mainly grabbed the burgers and nuggets. Good thing you did, it would have just been a pain to contain a large amount of chips."

"Exactly!" Miranda replied as she began to grin.

Lewis then began to unpack the bags and take the contained burgers into the food storage area, which was a designated freezer in the main area of the shop. Miranda quickly walked to Chris and snatched a can of Pepsi from the fridge next to him, which he slightly protested at, before scowling and going back to his book when she ignored him.

"The others are upstairs." Tyrone told Miranda, gesturing to the storeroom where the ladder was, as she looked around for her female comrades.

"Thanks Ty!" The upbeat Miranda replied, rushing to the ladder.

When Miranda reached the roof, she looked around to see the usual scene. Anna looking depressed beside the manga reading Abigail, and Caitlin looking around the city with the second group of Ashley and Rachel being on the opposite side of the roof, holding each other and talking quietly between each other.

Miranda headed over to the group of three, Abigail sparing her a glance and an acknowledging nod before returning to her reading, while Caitlin and Anna looked ready to begin a conversation with Miranda.

"Hey Miranda." Caitlin welcomed her with, patting the space next to her for Miranda to sit, which she graciously took.

"Sup guys?" Miranda asked the group, before taking a quick sip of her drink and looked at the faces of all three.

"Nothing much." Anna murmured, staring at the dusk-filled city just over the roof.

"I'm just really bored." Caitlin sighed, holding her face in her hands.

"Well, there's not much we can really do, is there?" Miranda questioned, gesturing to a distant horde passing by the Swine and Bovine that she was in earlier, luckily she had not gone to the closest one so no attention was attracted to their makeshift base. She had even set up multiple alarm clocks and egg timers in that fast food restaurant, making sure to keep zombies over there and nowhere near them for a while.

"Way to be non-depressing Miranda." Caitlin huffed, looking straight at her. "You'll end up worse than Chris if you're not careful."

"Is that even possible?" Miranda wondered, raising her left eyebrow in a questioning fashion.

"Wait and see." Caitlin replied in a sing-song way.

"Whatever." Miranda rolled her eyes and looked out to the city, holding her chin with a hand.

"Wait, what's that?" Caitlin asked, pointing at something that was moving in the distance.

"Probably a zombie." Abigail replied curtly, not looking up from her manga.

"Since when can they get up onto slanted rooftops?" Caitlin replied sharply, making the group of four look out to where she was pointing.

The four managed to spy a humanoid figure in what looked like forest camouflage and a black vest, pair of boots and helmet quickly jumping off of the roof Caitlin was pointing out, and running into the distance, as if it didn't want them to spot it. They lost sight of it after it darted behind a house.

"What the hell?" Miranda asked, frowning as she spoke.

"He had a pair of binoculars too; I think he was spying on us!" Caitlin said, looking seriously at the group of girls.

"That's creepy." Anna contributed to the conversation, before the group giggled quietly, quickly silencing themselves to not attract unwanted attention.

"We should tell the others." Abigail decided, standing up to make her way to the ladder.

"We'll stay here to see if he returns." Caitlin replied, nodding to Abigail before turning to look out at the town.

* * *

><p>Luther quickly charged through the streets of the town, managing to remember another two survivors that Ryan had not described to him, a tall black boy and a short hooded girl. He had elected himself to do recon on the group this time, as Dunn had too many eyes watching him, especially from that encounter with the bloated zombie.<p>

He reached the river that separated the two sections of the city, a horde inhabiting the river below. Luther had to move quietly as any sound could set off a walker, and who knows how many runners could be down there?

He slowly crouched down, and began to slowly make his way across the stone bridge. He had to be especially careful too, as it was dusk, and that meant zombies were much harder to see, and any stray object on the ground could go undetected. Since it was autumn, stray leaves were a major concern.

His carefully placed footsteps had gotten Luther halfway across the bridge, until he noticed something horrifying on the other side. A zombie was shuffling to the centre of the other side of the bridge, making his trip to the other side much more dangerous, and most certainly difficult.

Luther noted that the zombie was keeping its eyes on its path, which was left. That meant that he had to begin hugging the right side of the bridge. He slowly made his way to the right side, keeping his eyes as focused on the zombie as he moved.

Doing this was his ultimate mistake.

As Luther cautiously moved, he had neglected to notice a tree affected by the season of autumn on the right side of the bridge, one that so happened to have deposited a large amount of its leaves, and even a small branch on to the bridge.

Luther moved his right hand out, feeling the side of the bridge right next to him, and immediately retracted his hand, shuffling forwards slowly. His right boot came down lightly on to the stick, emitting two soft cracks.

_Oh shit._ He immediately thought, looking up to the zombie to see it pause, and begin swaying as it observed the environment in front of it. _Amateur mistake, soldier!_ He mentally berated himself, realising that any movement he made with his right foot would cause the branch to crack even more.

He quickly unsheathed his combat knife from his chest, and lightly, ever so lightly, lightened his foots pressure on the stick. The slow movement began to work, until another crack sounded out, causing the zombie in front of him to slowly turn in his direction, not noticing him just yet. The zombie stayed in its current position, looking out at the bridge, vaguely in his direction.

Luther knew that he couldn't stay in his current position, and that a tactical retreat would be the best option. He lifted his foot slowly, luckily not sounding out anymore cracks. He then placed his foot just behind the stick to help keep his balance.

Right into a pile of neatly raked leaves.

The zombie immediately lurched forward, going straight to the source of the noise. Luther quickly took a sharp breath, holding his position to let the zombie closer. Once it got within range of him, Luther grabbed the zombie by the jaw and stabbed it in the chest, its arms clawing at his armour. Luther then removed the knife, and rammed it straight under the zombies chin, straight to the brain.

He let go of the corpse after removing his knife, its collapse causing a small 'thump' noise. Luther then gasped loudly as a rotten arm curled around his collarbone and disease-ridden teeth sunk into his neck. He quickly pushed the zombie away and looked back at it, seeing it with only one arm. He then lifted his right arm to hold his bleeding neck while he kicked the zombie in the chest. Another zombie attempted to intercept his escape, but he had lost himself to his instincts. He grabbed the zombie's arms, and forced it to the edge of the bridge, before he kicked the zombie in the chest. The arms of the zombie were torn off, and the rest of the body went flying over; which happened to emit a multitude of zombie's growls and noises of movement.

Luther then let go of the arms, and turned to escape, before the zombie that originally bit him tackled him into the side of the bridge, feasting on his exposed collarbone. Luther growled in pain, before stabbing it in the left eye once, and kicking it over the opposite edge of the bridge.

Luther began his charge through the darkened streets, multiple growls and screeches barely registering to his fear-addled mind, as he chanted to himself in his head.

_This isn't a damn movie. They're just bites. They're just bites. I'm not infected; it's just like an animal bite, dammit!_

He charged straight down a street, running by the perimeter wall of a warehouse as he ran from the cannibalistic horde. He quickly circled the edge of the wall, only to see a feral zombie sitting on a humanoid figure.

Zombies don't attack their own. He knew immediately that it must be a human survivor, and that he had to save him.

He quickly pulled his silenced sniper from its position on his back, and kept running. He noticed that a rather long blade was sticking through the left of the waist of the zombie, and that the kid was reaching for a secondary blade he couldn't reach as the zombie attempted to maul its way through his armour, and strange hoodie.

As he neared the two, the feral looked up at him in confusion while the kid grabbed the blade that was in the zombies waist.

Luther quickly kicked the secondary blade to the kid with the side of his boot, just as he fired once from the hip at the feral zombies head. The beginning of the zombie's growl was silenced, as the upper portion of its head exploded in red chunks of gore.

* * *

><p>"Who are you people?" Marcus asked, looking straight at Thomas.<p>

"I'm Thomas Ritter; I came here to help these people, Sheila and Wendell." Thomas replied, lowered rifle twitching slightly. "What about you two 'fine gentlemen'?"

As Marcus began to look incredibly frustrated and angry, his friend cut in for him. "I'm Ed Jones, and this is Marcus Campbell. Nice to meet you."

Thomas nodded appreciatively at his stepping in and keeping the conversation civil. He then pulled out a map, and approached the two, holding it out for them to see. "We need to finish searching the campsite for survivors. I've checked the tents out there; can you check the industrial supply store, the public restroom and the six cabins?" He pointed out the buildings for them to search, the tents marked as searched on the map with black X's in circles.

"Fine then, we will."

Marcus was interrupted by Ed asking "We will?"

"But will you tell us what the hell's happening when we get back?"

"Of course. You should get started at the supply store; there is nothing else in that direction. Wendell already mapped everything there is to see, and you should know that there is a pickup truck over there. If you find an excess number of materials, food, ammo, medicine or fuel, could you put it into one of these sacks and put the sack in the back of the truck?" Thomas asked of the two, handing over 10 duffel bags to them, which Marcus promptly folded up and put in his backpack.

"Sure. We better get going." Marcus replied.

"Hang on there!" Thomas stopped him with, before rushing to the supply fridge and pulling out a bottle of painkillers and a packet of crisps. "This is all we can give you. I need to start setting up an infirmary once I've boarded up the windows."

"Is it to keep those cannibals out?" Ed asked.

Thomas looked to Ed with his right eyebrow raised, before beginning to hammer a board in to place over one of the windows. "Yes son, it is."

The two looked to each other strangely before shrugging their shoulders and leaving, going straight for the supply store.

"Man, he was a bit strange, wasn't he?" Ed asked Marcus, looking to him.

"Damn straight."

As the two made their way to a warehouse with a perimeter wall, they couldn't help but notice at least seven zombies in the compound. Marcus quickly scrambled up the wall, and dropped onto an unsuspecting zombie, crushing its head beneath his feet, and coating his trousers in a fine spray of blood.

The other zombies quickly noticed the human crush one of their own, and began to make their way to him. One zombie ran, while the five others simply shuffled their way to them.

The running zombie was floored by Ed, who jumped off of the wall and kicked it in the stomach. Ed then stood over the zombie, and viciously slammed his active fish stunner into the right side of its head, causing the head to shatter in a gruesome display.

Three zombies made their way to Marcus, while two others made their way to Ed. Marcus quickly slammed his metal oar into the side of a zombies head, making it careen into the perimeter wall and shatter. The headless corpse was then grabbed by Marcus and thrown into one of the two other zombies, making it collapse to the ground. He then kicked the other zombie in the knee, and swung his oar like a baseball bat, sending scraps of bone into a zombie that was about to take a bit out of Ed.

Marcus looked angrily at the final zombie on the floor, trapped under its lifeless compatriot, before he stabbed the oar into its neck and grinded his weapon until the head was severed from the rest of the body.

He looked to Ed and noticed that he had finished with the zombies that went for him. Marcus smiled and nodded at Ed, while Ed just looked slightly pale. The two then wandered into the warehouse, and searched multiple boxes, shelves and tables.

After a couple of minutes of searching, the two placed the items they had found into the back of the truck outside.

"So what did we get?" Ed asked Marcus, who immediately began taking inventory.

"5 bottles of painkillers, five packets of crisps, two of which we immediately ate, two bottles of petrol which we managed to convert into molotovs, two large backpacks which we are now wearing, 22 .45 calibre bullets, 11 shotgun shells, 10 .22 calibre bullets, a hatchet, a tomahawk, a 2x4 nailed bracket, a hooker shotgun and an M1917 revolver."

Ed whistled in admiration, before helping Marcus pack all of the bullets into one of the empty small backpacks they had taken off. They then put the molotovs in the other small backpack, as well as three of the bottles of painkillers and the packets of crisps. The two leftover painkiller bottles were shared between the two, while the spare weapons were kept underneath the two backpacks, before they pulled a large tarpaulin over the back of the blue and white pickup truck.

Multiple bullets where then heard being fired in the distance, which the two men realised weren't from the ranger station. They charged to the source of the bullets, the source being a woman firing at a horde of zombies with a SOCOM II ETR. A short wakizashi blade hung at her side. The woman was wearing a brown jacket with a cyan t-shirt beneath it. She was also wearing yoga pants with brown boots that had a fur lining on the top of them.

"Come on, Ed, lets help her!"


End file.
